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"Drink this, dear," urged Mrs Peagrim.
"Nervino," said Uncle Chris.
"There!" said Mrs Peagrim. "That will make you feel much better. How well you always look, Major Selby!"
"And yet at one time," said Uncle Chris perseveringly, "I was a martyr ..."
"I can't remember if I told you last night about the party. We are giving a little supper-dance to the company of Otie's play after the performance this evening. Of course you will come?"
Uncle Chris philosophically accepted his failure to secure the ear of his audience. Other opportunities would occur.
"Delighted," he said. "Delighted."
"Quite a simple, bohemian little affair," proceeded Mrs Peagrim. "I thought it was only right to give the poor things a little treat after they have all worked so hard."
"Certainly, certainly. A capital idea."
"We shall be quite a small party. If I once started asking anybody outside our _real_ friends, I should have to ask everybody."
The door opened.
"Mr Rooke," announced the maid.
Freddie, like Mr Pilkington, was a prey to gloom this morning. He had read one or two of the papers, and they had been disgustingly lavish in their praise of The McWhustle of McWhustle. It made Freddie despair of the New York press. In addition to this, he had been woken up at seven o'clock, after going to sleep at three, by the ringing of the telephone and the announcement that a gentleman wished to see him: and he was weighed down with that heavy-eyed languor which comes to those whose night's rest is broken.
"Why, how do you do, Mr Rooke!" said Mrs Peagrim.
"How-de-do," replied Freddie, blinking in the strong light from the window. "Hope I'm not barging in and all that sort of thing? I came round about this party tonight, you know."
"Oh, yes?"
"Was wondering," said Freddie, "if you would mind if I brought a friend of mine along? Popped in on me from England this morning. At seven o'clock," said Freddie plaintively. "Ghastly hour, what! Didn't do a thing to the good old beauty sleep! Well, what I mean to say is, I'd be awfully obliged if you'd let me bring him along."
"Why, of course," said Mrs Peagrim. "Any friend of yours, Mr Rooke ..."
"Thanks awfully. Special reason why I'd like him to come, and all that. He's a fellow named Underhill. Sir Derek Underhill. Been a pal of mine for years and years."
Uncle Chris started.
"Underhill! Is Derek Underhill in America?"
"Landed this morning. Routed me out of bed at seven o'clock."
"Oh, do you know him, too, Major Selby?" said Mrs Peagrim. "Then I'm sure he must be charming!"
"Charming," began Uncle Chris in measured tones, "is an adjective which I cannot ..."
"Well, thanks most awfully," interrupted Freddie. "It's fearfully good of you to let me bring him along. I must be staggering off now.
Lot of things to do."
"Oh, must you go already?"
"Absolutely must. Lot of things to do."
Uncle Chris extended a hand to his hostess.
"I think I will be going along, too, Mrs Peagrim. I'll walk a few yards with you, Freddie my boy. There are one or two things I would like to talk over. Till tonight, Mrs Peagrim."
"Till tonight, Major Selby." She turned to Mr Pilkington as the door closed. "What charming manners Major Selby has, So polished. A sort of old-world courtesy. So smooth!"
"Smooth," said Mr Pilkington dourly, "is right!"
2.
Uncle Chris confronted Freddie sternly outside the front door.
"What does this mean? Good G.o.d, Freddie, have you no delicacy?"
"Eh?" said Freddie blankly.
"Why are you bringing Underhill to this party? Don't you realize that poor Jill will be there? How do you suppose she will feel when she sees that blackguard again? The cad who threw her over and nearly broke her heart!"
Freddie's jaw fell. He groped for his fallen eyegla.s.s.
"Oh, my aunt! Do you think she will be pipped?"
"A sensitive girl like Jill!"
"But, listen. Derek wants to marry her."
"What!"
"Oh, absolutely. That's why he's come over."
Uncle Chris shook his head.
"I don't understand this. I saw the letter myself which he wrote to her, breaking off the engagement."
"Yes, but he's dashed sorry about all that now. Wishes he had never been such a mug, and all that sort of thing. As a matter of fact, that's why I shot over here in the first place. As an amba.s.sador, don't you know. I told Jill all about it directly I saw her, but she seemed inclined to give it a miss rather, so I cabled old Derek to pop here in person. Seemed to me, don't you know, that Jill might be more likely to make it up and all that if she saw old Derek."
Uncle Chris nodded, his composure restored.
"Very true. Yes, certainly, my boy, you acted most sensibly. Badly as Underhill behaved, she undoubtedly loved him. It would be the best possible thing that could happen if they could be brought together.
It is my dearest wish to see Jill comfortably settled. I was half hoping that she might marry young Pilkington."
"Good G.o.d! The Pilker!"